


Far Cry 5 Ficlets

by vampgirl999



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: F/M, Gen, Humor, Mostly In-Game, Multi, Sarcasm, Some AUs, if it's not listed it might still happen, nonbinary rook, replace them with yours if you like, so many relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 18:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21414769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampgirl999/pseuds/vampgirl999
Summary: A collection of ficlets written for the Far Cry 5 universe, most born from a prompt list and a random number generator. Not all of them are pairing fics, but many of them are short.
Relationships: Deputy | Judge/John Seed, Deputy | Judge/Joseph Seed, Deputy | Judge/Kim Rye/Nick Rye, Kim Rye/Nick Rye, deputy/grace armstrong
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Nick/Kim - “I bet it’s a boy.” “I bet it’s a turtle.”

“I bet it’s a boy.”    
  
“I bet it’s a turtle.”    
  
Silence fell over the Ryes’ home. Nick looked up from where he knelt, hands gently encompassing his wife’s swollen belly while he spoke to their future child, and looked over to Rook, who lay stretched out on their back on the couch, seeming to read a magazine they had found in a local bunker. If they weren’t grinning at the ceiling, that is.    
  
“A turtle?” Nick asked incredulously. “Why the heck would my son end up being a turtle?”    
  
“Aliens.” Rook shrugged, dropping the magazine on their lap. A few feet away, Kim was shaking her head. “You heard what happened to Larry Parker.”    
  
Now it was Nick shaking his head. “I still say you were dosed up on Bliss when that happened. That crazy nut probably just vaporized himself!”   
  
“Vaporized by an alien death ray?” Rook raised their eyebrows, grin widening once more.    
  
“Now you quit that!”    
  
Kim watched the pair of them bicker back and forth, Rook gleefully providing reasons - most of them absolutely ridiculous - for why their baby girl (because no matter what Nick said, it had been confirmed time and time again - they were having a baby  _ girl _ ) would come out as a turtle. Once they started in on Nick possibly having turtle DNA in his bloodline - and the pilot in turn doing his best to wrestle their friend down, declaring they were “crazier than that Joseph Seed!” - Kim just shook her head again, turned around, and went to go relax in the kitchen. She’d give them ten minutes - or until they broke something - and then call them in to get started on dinner. Put the energy to good use.    
  



	2. Hurk Jr - “32?” “I’ll prove it!”

**   
** Bets with Hurk were pretty much guaranteed to be absolutely hilarious, and usually ridiculous. Be it stuffing marshmallows in their mouth, or seeing who could incapacitate the most Peggies in a pre-agreed upon amount of time (Hurk had blast radius, but Rook had speed), or even just seeing who could drink the other under the table before someone stopped them (or Mary May kicked them out of the bar). This time? It was a test of strength.    
  
“32?” Rook asked for what must have been the third time in the past twenty minutes. A few feet ahead of them, Sharky was making a show of stretching his arms and reaching to touch his toes. Or trying to, anyhow, Rook wasn’t about to judge. They were, however, debating on the ethics of letting him go through with this.    
  
“I’ll prove it!” Hurk Jr. stated with a proud grin, looking over his shoulder at them before dropping down into a deep squat. Rook grimaced and looked in the other direction.    
  
“Hurk, I seriously think this is a bad idea. Like an actually really bad one, not just our usual level of bad.” Nearby, Cheeseburger let out a yawn and lumbered over, pressing his big, fuzzy head into Rook’s chest, demanding pets. Rook acquiesced, scratching deep into the bear’s thick brown fur, though they kept their eyes on Hurk.    
  
“Aw, come on man, it’ll be fun!”    
  
“Hurk, you cannot  **lift** Cheeseburger, let alone for 32 seconds! You’ll snap your spine!”    
  
“Aww, that’s quitter talk!”    
  
“He is at least a half ton of fluff and burgers, man!” At this, Cheeseburger made a soft growl of protest, and Rook absentmindedly scratched at his ears.    
  
“Sorry bud, but it’s true.” Finishing his stretch, Hurk turned back to the pair and planted his hands on his hips, for a moment reminding the Deputy of his mother, done with their nonsense.    
  
“You’re just afraid that you’ll lose the bet!” He declared with a cocky grin, striding over.    
  
“No amount of drinks is worth this, man, seriously.” Rook shook their head. The usual agreement for the bets was a simple one: loser either paid for that week’s round of drinks, or covered the other’s tab. Admittedly, this agreement tended to be more in Hurk’s favor (Rook not drinking nearly as much as him, and being the “Hero of Hope County”, it wasn’t often that they had to actually pay for their drinks), but the older man hardly won anyhow, and it was fun.   
  
“All right, man, let’s do this!”    
  
Needless to say, Hurk lost again. But the Deputy was a good sport, and was all too willing to drive him to the nearest doctor afterward. Diagnosis: one case of a hyperextended back, and two cases of extreme dumbassery.    



	3. John - “You can’t make me.” “What are you? Five?”

To be fair, Rook wasn’t entirely sure how the attempt had even worked in the first place. John had been on another one of his rants, flailing about as he went on about how he was going to get them to confess, to finally say “Yes”, and some reflex from their childhood had sprung up from their brain and launched itself out of their mouth.    
  
“You can’t make me.”    
  
It was the most playground, childish argument one could make. Right up there along with repeating “Why?” or “And?” until whoever you were going back and forth with finally had enough and dragged you off by the back of your shirt collar. But it had worked - John had shut up, and was staring at them with an unreadable expression on his face. Bafflement, maybe?    
  
“What are you? Five?” Well, that was fair, all things considered.    
  
“I figured I should speak your language.” Fuck it, might as well dig in now. John’s eye seemed to twitch, briefly.    
  
“I am  **not** a child.” He hissed, leaning over them menacingly, his entire form seething.   
  
“Youngest brother, listens to the oldest’s rules, argues and throws tantrums when he doesn’t get his way? Sure sounds like you are. The baby of the Seed family.”    
  
The blow to their jaw came suddenly, and hard, putting so much force into it that the chair they were tied to actually rocked back a bit, only staying on all four legs by John’s hand suddenly yanking it back toward him.    
  
“You are going to confess every last sin you have to me. And then I am going to cut that disrespectful tongue right from your mouth!” He practically snarled, pressing his face close to their own.   
  
Internally, Rook sighed as John pulled away, stomping back towards his tools. It wasn’t that they didn’t believe him, it was just occurring to them that by teasing John, they had probably just invited him to bother Jacob and Joseph about it all after they inevitably escaped - and the former was far less forgiving.    



	4. Joseph - “What do you have?” “Pizza rolls and Cup O’ Noodles… that’s about it. Popcorn?”

It was an argument they ended up having all too often, usually with no true resolution by the end of things.    
  
“Are you sure you are taking care of yourself?” Grateful that their boyfriend couldn’t see them through the phone, Rook rolled their eyes.   
  
“Joseph, I’m  _ fine _ . Don’t you have a sermon to be prepping for?”    
  
“I have thoroughly studied everything that I have needed to, which has left me plenty of time to check on you.” The man replied, ever patient compared to his more excitable partner.   
  
They were an odd pair, to be certain - a Sheriff’s Deputy and a religious leader (and preacher). People often joked about them being total opposites: Rook was crude, emotional, and an only child that had never quite grew out of some of their old teenage habits. Joseph was carefully spoken, almost never not calm, and had two brothers and a sister that he tended to act as a leader towards, even if he was a middle child.    
  
Unfortunately, their opposites also extended to their general lifestyles. Rook had allowed Joseph’s influence to affect how much they drank (far less than they used to), and in turn they had convinced Joseph that indulging in things that weren’t necessarily good (or necessary) for him now and again wasn’t a terrible thing. But Joseph was fairly stubborn when it came to eating properly, especially as he took note of his own growing age - and that of his brothers’ - and had dragged Rook into it as well, declaring that “a healthy body” was as essential to life as a connection to God.    
  
“When was the last time you went shopping, and not at a corner store?”    
  
Not a damn clue. “Does it matter? I have food in the house, Joe, I promise.”    
  
“All right, assuage my worries then. What do you have?”    
  
Well, shit. They had walked themself into that one, hadn’t they?    
  
“Gimme a sec.” And let them consider whether lying was the best option right now. No, probably not - Joseph has a weird sixth sense for when they were lying, and they wouldn’t be surprised if he asked one of his brothers to “drop by” unexpectedly for dinner or something to check.    
  
“Uhh…” They opened their admittedly meager fridge, and grimaced glancing over to the open cupboards next. They should probably stop leaving those open all the time. “Pizza rolls and Cup O’ Noodles… that’s about it. Popcorn?”   
  
A long pause. Too long, honestly, to the point they tried to break the tension with a joke.    
  
“I can feel the judgement.”    
  
Another sigh. “Rook…” Right, they were in trouble.    
  
“Scratch that, I can  _ feel _ the judgement.”    
  
“You are a grown adult, Rook.”   
  
“And as an adult, I can eat whatever I want.” And deal with the consequences alone, in private.  **   
**


	5. John - “Come inside, I’m sorry.” “Not until you apologize.” “I just said I’m freaking sorry.”

_ _ The rain was coming down in icy sheets now, soaking anything and everything it touched to the very core. Anyone with even a bit of common sense had found shelter, bundling up against the cold and inevitable sickness the storm would bring. 

Everyone except Rook, that is. The Deputy was standing fifteen feet away from the open door of a cabin, stubbornly turning their back on it with their arms crossed, fighting back every chilled shudder with a stony determination.

In the doorway to the cabin stood John Seed. His arms were wrapped tightly around his torso, and as freezing droplets spattered on the exposed parts of his skin, he found himself once more debating just shutting the door and riding out the storm by himself. 

He sighed. No, leaving his boyfriend/girlfriend to freeze to death was probably something he’d end up getting in trouble with Joseph for, later. 

“Come inside, I’m sorry.” He said at last, raising his voice to be heard over the howling winds as they picked up.

“Nope.” Surely he misheard that. 

“What?” 

“I’m not moving. Not until you apologize.” At least they were looking at him now, though the glare was admittedly less than pleasant to be a target of. John frowned.

“I just said I’m freaking sorry.” 

“Not to me! To Cheeseburger!” The Deputy pointed into the cabin. John looked over his shoulder, to where a large bear was snoring by the fireplace, taking up a good part of the small space they had. 

“You must be joking.”

“Take back what you said, or I’m telling Joseph!” Shit. He sighed, looked at the bear, then back at his stubborn partner. 

“Fine, I’m sorry for calling it a slobbering beast that would better befit a rug in our bedroom.”

“Him!” 

Oh for the love of… “ _ Him. _ Now come inside already!” 

Thankfully, this time, the Deputy obeyed, walking in as casually as they could - dripping wet, shaking, and freezing to the touch. John rolled his eyes and slammed the door shut, locking it before stomping over to where a blanket lay across the only couch in the room. Cheeseburger peeked an eye out as he did, and John would swear the thing was laughing at him. 

“Take off those wet clothes, and sit on the couch.” He motioned with his hand, glaring at the bear while his back was still turned on his partner. 

“W-We’re n-n-not ha-having sex!” The Deputy declared through chattering teeth. John whipped around.

“Are you -  _ you are going to freeze to death, you absolute  _ _ idiot _ !”

  
He would later be thanking God that he locked the door. It made wrestling the Deputy away from it all the easier.  **   
**


	6. Joseph - “Baby, I’m scared.” “You don’t have to be; not as long as I’m here.”

“You’re going to be okay.” Long fingers carefully brushed back sweaty hair from a too-pale face.    
  
It was a lie. They both knew it was one, even without saying so aloud.    
  
The human body could hold a truly amazing amount of blood, Rook found themselves musing. Their vision has started growing wobbly again as the person cradling them shifted, adjusting his hold so they were cradled against his chest, ear pressed into him so firmly that they could hear his heart’s rapid beating.    
  
The irony wasn’t lost on them. Their own heart was struggling to keep beating, each press pushing dark, tacky fluid out of the hole ripped in their stomach. A lucky shot by one of Joseph’s followers, maybe? Or had that one been a wild animal attack? A crash?   
  
They… they couldn’t remember. Think… why wasn’t it coming? Were they even panicking anymore, or was the adrenaline all going toward keeping them breathing for the moment, extending the inevitable?    
  
“J...Joseph…” Sticky fingers, stained with their own drying life, reached out into the air, searching. Was their vision blurring, or were those tears in their eyes? They couldn’t brush them away, just let them run - hot and wet and cold all at once - down over their dirt-streaked face.    
  
A strong, warm hand clasped their own, squeezing firmly and lessening the weight of the reach.    
  
“I’m here, Rook.” He had been mumbling apologies earlier, they think. His eyes certainly looked apologetic.    
  
“I….I’m scared.” A sob caught in their chest, too weak to let it out like they wanted to. The blurring grew worse. They didn’t want to die. Not now. Not so soon. They weren’t ready. There was a deep breath above them, and the chest pressed against them. When he spoke, Joseph’s words were stronger, firmer in their resolve. And so, so gentle.    
  
“You don’t have to be; not as long as I’m here.” He leaned forward, and briefly touched their heads together - an attempted gesture he had done with members of his Flock so many times before. “I will not leave you, Rook. I will protect you, and guide your soul to God’s loving embrace.”    
  
“What...if...he doesn’t…” They couldn’t get the words out, looked pleadingly to Joseph’s distorted form.    
  
“God loves and forgives all of His children, Rook. You are no exception. You are Forgiven.”    
  
That small comfort was enough, it would seem, for Rook did not speak again. Joseph Seed kept his word, holding the Deputy in his arms long after they had stopped breathing, and the heat began to leave their body. He would send word to the others soon - inform them what had occurred. For now, he was going to pray for his lost lamb, and ask that God accept them as he himself had attempted to, so many times before.  **   
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't care how "Daddy" he is to people - I'm not calling Joseph "Baby", even in a fic!


	7. Grace - “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.”

Grace Armstrong had a naturally intense stare - anyone who had ever been in her company knew this as fact. The former military sniper tended to take people in as she looked at them, analytical and observant on reflex.

One day, after being witness to this legendary look in action, Rook decided to make a joke of it. 

“If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.” They teased, winking.

They had expected an eyeroll, maybe a blush if they were lucky. Silence, most likely. Except none of that happened.

“Who said I needed a bed?” Grace quipped back, casual as can be. Her dark eyes flickered to meet the Deputy’s, and the other felt their face grow hot. 

“Uh, I mean…” They sputtered. Mercifully, Grace started laughing, ending their awkward attempt at speaking.

“Relax, Deputy. I’m only kidding.” She smiled, and they relaxed a bit.

“Oh, right. Yeah, me too.” Grace smirked, and turned to walk away.

“Mm. Too bad.” The Deputy stared after her, then scrambled to catch up.

“Wait - what?!” 


	8. Adelaide - “Teach me how to play?”

“Oh sweet baby Jesus!” Rook immediately turned their back on the sight before them, their words responded to by cackling laughter. 

“Ignore them, Sugar, they’re just not used to seeing a fine specimen like yourself all out in the open.” Rook shook their head, eyes firmly fixed on the sky as they heard footsteps approach them. 

“Addie, I came here with the impression of you needing some help - not an invitation for a threeway with the Banana Hammock Wonder, here.” Rook waved in the general direction of where Xander had been. Seriously, that thing left  nothing to the imagination - and he still had his sandals on! Why didn’t he remove them instead?!

“Awww, relax honey - we’re just playing a little strip poker!” A warm hand rested on their bicep, and Rook gave in, allowing themselves to be turned around. Adelaide stood before them with one hand on her hip, and a big grin on her face. Her usual pink button-up was long gone, leaving her chest in full view beyond a surprisingly tasteful red lace bra. Rook’s eyes dropped briefly, then quickly popped back up, trying to fight back the blush that formed at Adelaide’s knowing grin. She subtly pushed her chest out a bit, pretending to stretch. 

“I’m guessing you’re winning, then?” Don’t look at the boobs, it is a trap. She grinned and nodded, jerking a thumb back at where Xander was still waiting, staring with a serious expression at a handful of cards.

“Xander used to play a lot back in California. Unfortunately, he’s never played me.” The look in her eyes was positively lecherous. “Well, fortunate for some.” 

“I’ll bet.” For all his obvious losses, it was apparent that Xander had still managed a few over Addie and her - no doubt cheating - card tricks. Adelaide was still watching them, clearly having led them out here for fun rather than actually needing help with anything. 

There was always more work to be done with the Resistance. They could just go back to the Spread Eagle or radio up anyone nearby, see if any jobs needed doing. 

Or… they could take a break, and actually have some fun. Rook pocketed their radio, and slipped their pistol back into its holster, grinning back at the older woman. 

“Teach me how to play?”


	9. Grace - “You lied to me.”

“You lied to me.” The sniper’s voice was cold, offering no room for argument. 

Rook winced, shifting the bat in their hands so that the wider end pressed into the dirt, serving as a prop as they leaned against it. 

“To be fair, I wasn’t technically  lying -” 

“ _ You said you knew how to use a sniper rifle. _ ” Another wince. Damn, she was scary!

“Correction: I said I knew how to use a  **rifle** , which is what you asked.”

“You beat down eleven cultists with that bat after taking three shots - which all missed.” Her voice had dropped into a deadpan.

“Never said I was good at it, either.” Rook grinned a bit at this. Grace didn’t share the expression.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah that’s fair.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, all are appreciated!


End file.
